


A Promise in Flowers

by wraithkeeper



Category: White Collar
Genre: Angst, Multi, Romance, Threesome - F/M/M, White Collar OT3 (Elizabeth/Peter/Neal)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-29
Updated: 2011-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:47:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wraithkeeper/pseuds/wraithkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s the first Monday in almost a year that Elizabeth hasn’t had a fresh bouquet of flowers on her desk. Mild P/E/N, can be read as gen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Promise in Flowers

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the season one finale. Written for the promptfest at elrhiarhodan's journal. Prompt was: Elizabeth - Flowers.

It’s the first Monday in almost a year that Elizabeth hasn’t had a fresh bouquet of flowers on her desk. She knows it won’t be there, and she almost doesn’t want to go into work to see that she’s right. She knows it’s selfish of her. Neal’s in prison and Peter’s on suspension, and she’s dreading a desk without flowers. She mentally scolds herself and tries to ignore the lead weight in her stomach when she sees the bare desk.

For the first twenty minutes Elizabeth can do nothing but stare at that empty spot where the vase usually sits. The first bouquet had been waiting for her three days after Neal started working with her husband, and he hadn’t missed a Monday since. There was never a card, of course, but she knew they were from Neal.

When she can finally begin to focus on work, Elizabeth grabs her stack of mail from the desk and flips through the various envelopes from caterers and clients. Her fingers stop when they reach a little grey envelope with Neal’s name and inmate number written in the corner. She flips it over with trembling hands and opens it. For a second Elizabeth thinks that it’s empty, but then she sees a tiny corner of folded paper. She pulls it out and a sob catches in her throat at the sight of the little origami flower. Its edges are rough and it’s clearly made from a torn piece of yellow legal paper, but Elizabeth cradles it in her palm like it’s her most valuable possession.

She sets the flower carefully on the desk where the vase usually sits and her eyes keep flicking in its direction throughout the day, seeking its reassurance, its promise. Neal will come back to them. He isn’t lost forever.


End file.
